The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (parable of the sower read online .TXT) 📗

Pullman palace car was attached to the end of the train that began its journey west from Union Station on the Baltimore and Ohio line.

Several hours later, as the passenger train passed the small town of Braxton, Allison laid down her needlepoint and gazed out the window.

“I wonder how Jonathan and Ginna are getting along, having Nathan visiting for the summer?” she said.

Rad lowered his newspaper. “What caused you to think of the Forsyte boy just now?”

“We’re passing through Braxton, Rad. This is where Nathan goes to school.”

“Oh.” Rad went back to his newspaper, leaving Allison with her thoughts. Finally, she picked up her needlepoint again and began working. The light was still good and she became occupied in finishing the seat cover for one of the dining chairs at Bluegrass Meadors.

Time passed monotonously for Allison. And yet she was traveling in comfort, with her husband. The elegant dinner was served promptly at seven o’clock. And the beds were turned down by their own special attendant, who catered to their every need. Still, the past haunted Allison. She would never be comfortable on a train. For she associated it with loss and hunger. And tonight was particularly difficult. As the darkness closed in, it didn’t matter what her mind told her. Her heart was in the past, reacting to the sound of the clacking wheels and the haunting whistle bleating over the deserted countryside, as four hundred and fifty women were being transported north, away from their loved ones and everything they held dear.

Allison stood. “I think I’ll retire, Rad. I’m getting rather sleepy.”

“Then good night, Allison. I believe I’ll stay up a little longer.” He leaned over, kissed her, and watched her disappear from the sitting area.

But that night, as the train passed through the small towns, stopping for only a few minutes and then going on, Allison lay awake and watched the small railway lanterns appear and disappear: red and green lights that announced arrivals and departures from the gray wooden structures built along the sides of the tracks.

For two days the routine was the same, except for some minor incidents along the way. Not far out of Chicago, the train came to an unscheduled stop.

“What’s wrong, Rad? Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?”

Rad leaned out the window and stared down the track. “Looks as if something has blocked the railroad track.”

“You think it’s intentional?”

“I don’t know. But the work crew is getting off. They’ll have the debris removed soon.”

Within minutes, the train had started up again. Allison put on her hat and gathered her belongings in preparation for arrival at their final destination.

The trouble began suddenly. At the entrance to the yards, the smell of smoke was everywhere as dozens of railroad cars were set on fire. Unruly mobs raced in all directions, doing their mischief, pretending to be strikers when only a few actually were. The hooligans had taken over, getting back at the moneyed few.

Rad could hear the uncoupling of their private car as the train was stopped before it even reached the station. In anger, he marched into the vestibule. “Now, see here. Put down that torch. You’re destroying private property.”

But it was too late. Another torch had been thrown through the open window, barely missing Allison. “Rad,” she screamed, brushing the sparks from her dress. The draperies became a solid sheet of flame, sending her running toward the vestibule, where Rad was trying to fend off the mob, determined to do their damage.

“Quick, Allison. We’ve got to get out of here,” Rad said, lifting her down from the private car as clubs swung and people cursed and the mob became caught up in violence. No longer responsible for their own behavior, the mob became one anonymous entity, fighting and clawing and ruining a humane cause of labor by turning it into an opportunity to loot and burn.

Rad fielded the blows as he became a shield for Allison, guiding her through the mob toward safety. But they were surrounded, with no way out.

Morrow, waiting with Andrew in the carriage, prayed that Allison and Rad had missed their train and that they were not caught up in the riot.

But her prayers were in vain. As she watched, she saw a woman dressed in familiar green silk break from the crowd and begin to run, pulled along by a tall, dark man.

“There’s Mother. Oh, Andrew, please do something,” Morrow cried out.

Andrew pointed the horses in their direction and the carriage raced to reach them before they were swallowed up again in the crowd. But Andrew was too late. A few seconds before he got to them, a runaway carriage bore down.

“Mother, look out,” Morrow screamed. “Behind you.”

With one last-minute action, Rad knocked Allison out of the way. But, for him, it was too late. He was struck by one of the wheels and was dragged under the carriage as the runaway horses raced onward.

A few minutes later, someone managed to grab the reins and stop the carriage. “Do you think he’s dead?” a man asked.

“I expect so,” another answered.

“No, he can’t be,” Allison cried, reaching her fallen husband and kneeling beside him. “Rad, speak to me.”

“Mother?”

Allison looked up into her daughter’s face. “He’s hurt, Morrow. Terribly hurt. We’ll have to get him to a hospital.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Andrew directed the lifting of the large man into the carriage. And as they left the train station, a subdued crowd parted to let them through.

CHAPTER

36

“I’m afraid he’s gravely hurt, Mrs. Meadors. The broken leg is the least of our worries. Your husband’s spleen has been damaged and he’s hemorrhaging internally. It’s only a matter of time now.”

“But isn’t there anything at all that can be done for him?”

A frantic Allison stared at the physician at Cook County Hospital. Her amethyst eyes took him by surprise, prompting him to speak when he had no business to give her any further hope.

“A splenectomy might save his life. But there’re only